The return to the base was made in a heavy silence, only disturbed by the purring of the engine and the still slightly rushed breath of Do-hyun. The adrenaline of the confrontation gave way to a different nervous tension, mixed with a muted excitement. The metal box, placed on his lap, seemed to radiate a clean energy, a weight that far exceeded his physical mass.
Once inside the HQ, the doors locked and the energy shields activated, they were finally able to breathe. Min-ho methodically checked the security systems while Soo-ah prepared a tea with a firm hand, his already piercing gaze analyzing the situation.
"They knew," she said at last, breaking the silence. His voice was calm, but tense." They were actively monitoring the cenotaph. They knew it was important."
"Not necessarily what it was," Min-ho corrected, joining the central salon. He had already plugged the USB key into a terminal isolated from the network. "They talked about a curse, an object that attracts problems. They were afraid of it, or coveted it, without necessarily understanding its nature."
Do-hyun delicately placed the box on the coffee table. Her fingers still tingled from contact with the memory stone." The patrol leader said, "They feel it, your little light." He was talking about me, not the stone."
[Confirmation.] The host's energetic signature, although controlled, emits a distinctive residual footprint. Energy-sensitive entities (vampires, Bloodline users) can detect it remotely.
"It's a problem," said Min-ho, pragmatically. "We can't turn off your aura. This means that each mission carries an increased risk of detection. We need to adapt our strategies accordingly. Prefer extreme distance stealth approaches, very short intervention windows, and always have a quick disengagement plan."
Do-hyun nodded, absorbing information. He was a moving target, a beacon in the night as the vampire had said. His progress was also his greatest vulnerability.
"Let's focus on what we have," Soo-ah proposed, pointing to the box. "The USB key is being analyzed. What about the stone?"
Do-hyun took the memory stone. It was smooth and cold, but a strange heat seemed to emanate from its core. "The System says it requires a Phoenix signature to be deciphered."
[SUBJECT: Energy Memory Stone (LEVEL 1 - PARENTAL PROTECTION) ]
REQUIRED ACCESS: Genetic and energetic imprint of Kim Do-hyun.
[Procedure: Channeling a tiny amount of PHENIX ENERGY IN ARTEACT.]
"I'll try," he announced.
He settled cross-legged on the floor, taking a meditation position that the System had sometimes suggested to him to optimize the control of his energy. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. In the silence of his mind, he appealed to the sensation of the Blade of Light, not to materialize it, but to draw from it the essence, that golden and pure spark that was his. He felt the heat flow through his veins, concentrating in the palm of his hand that held the stone.
He delicately directed this flow, like a trickle of water, towards the black stone.
In contact with energy, the stone came alive. The faint bluish glow it emitted intensified, becoming warmer, more golden. Then she was no longer an inert object in her hand, but a door.
A flood of impressions, images and emotions overwhelmed his mind. It was not a linear film, but a total sensory experience, as if he was being injected into his blood.
---
Memory (twelve years ago)
The smell of chamomile tea and candle wax. The gentle warmth of a fireplace. He's small, sitting on a carpet, playing with building blocks. Her parents are on the couch, speaking in a low voice. Their auras, which he could not see at the time but which he now perceives in memory, are intertwined, one silvery and logical (his father), the other golden and intuitive (his mother).
The results are conclusive, Mi-young. Compatibility is beyond our expectations." The voice of his father, Kim Jong-hoon, is grave, filled with pride mixed with concern.
"He's so young, Jong-hoon." His mother's voice, Lee Mi-young, is soft, but vibrant with the same tension. It's a huge burden."
It's a seed. It will only grow if it is watered by need, by threat. If all goes well, he will live a normal life, and it will remain dormant. But if war takes us... if we fail... it will be his only chance. His lifeline."
Do-hyun, the child, looks up. "Dad, mom, what are you talking about?"
His mother gets up and comes and sits next to him. His smile is a sun, but his eyes, which Do-hyun-adult now sees with the clarity of memory, are veiled with deep sadness. She strokes her hair.
"From you, my treasure. "She takes her little hands in hers. Her voice becomes a whisper, charged with an intention so strong that it imprints itself in memory like a seal." If one day... if one day everything becomes dark, if you're scared and you don't know where to go, remember. Remember the Stone Garden. Remember that we love you more than anything. And never, ever fear the light within you."
She puts a kiss on her forehead. A feeling of intense warmth, pure and unconditional love, envelops her. It was at this point, Do-hyun understands, that she deposited the germ of memory in her subconscious, linking it to the emerging energetic imprint of the System within her.
Memory changes. The living room light fades, replaced by the cold glow of a clandestine laboratory. Her parents are older, with features marked by fatigue and stress. They are in front of a complex console, in the center of which floats a crystal sphere crisscrossed with filaments of gold and scarlet - the Heart of the Phoenix.
"The interface is stable, but the energy cost is prohibitive," says his father, frantically tapping on a keyboard. "Only a perfectly compatible subject will be able to handle it without being consumed."
"And we only have Do-hyun," whispers his mother, her eyes fixed on the sphere. "We can't take that risk. We have to hide it. Divide it."
"The Dissemination Protocol," approves his father. He pulls out a small black stone, identical to the one Do-hyun is holding now. "We're hiding the location data here. One part in the stone, another... somewhere else. Only the two parties together, with the signature of the heir, will reveal the way."
He lays his hands on the stone, and a complex light, made of mathematical formulas and stellar maps, is fleetingly imprinted on it. Then he hands the stone to Mi-young. She adds her own imprint, a layer of emotion, of protection, of love, which serves as the final lock.
"For our son," she whispers. "So that he has a choice. That of avenging us, or that of building."
The last image is of his mother, alone in the Stone Garden, at nightfall. She deposits the box under the stele. A tear runs down his cheek, captured in the stone's memory. She whispers one last time, a message so personal that it burns Do-hyun's soul:
"Forgive us, Do-hyun. To have chosen you as the heir to this burden. But look at the world, look at the darkness that is spreading. You were our best hope. Be strong. Be good. And when you have the Heart, remember that true power is not in destruction, but in creation."
---
Do-hyun emerged from memory with a start, panting, his cheeks flooded with tears that he had not felt flow. The stone in his hand had become inert again, its light extinguished. Raw emotion overwhelmed him - the poignant love of his parents, their calculated sacrifice, their terrible dilemma. They hadn't used it. They had armed him to survive, hoping that he would never have to use these weapons.
Soo-ah and Min-ho looked at him, silent, respecting the intensity of the moment.
"They... they implanted the System in me when I was a child," he managed to say, his voice broken. They hoped I would never need it."
"Visionaries," Soo-ah whispered, impressed. "They planned for decades."
"What about the Heart?" asked Min-ho, still focused on the lens.
Do-hyun took a deep breath, trying to regain control. "The Heart is hidden. But location data is divided. This stone contains only half of it. A sequence of energy coordinates. The other half is... "elsewhere." They talked about the "Dissemination Protocol."
[Analysis of data extracted from memory stone: partial coordinate sequence (50%).]
[NATURE: ENERGY TERMS for the GEOGRAPHIC map of Seoul.]
[STATUS: INCOMPLETE: INCOMPLETE WITHOUT THE SECOND HALF.]
At that moment, Min-ho's computer beeped. The USB key had been decrypted.
"I have something," Min-ho announced, turning to the screen.
They gathered around the terminal. The key content was a collection of files: more detailed research notes on core stabilization, technical diagrams of the system interface, and a video file, simply titled "For Do-hyun."
Do-hyun's heart jumped. He started reading.
His father appeared on the screen, sitting in what was to be their secret laboratory. He looked exhausted, older than in his memories, but his eyes shone with intense intelligence.
"Do-hyun. If you see this, Mi-young and I are no longer here. And that the seed germinated. "He paused, a visible pain running through his face." The Heart of the Phoenix is powerful, but unstable. Our job was to make it accessible, safe. We almost got there. But the Purple Dawn Clan, and perhaps others, got wind of it. They want it, not to destroy it, but to corrupt it. To use it as a weapon of domination, not protection."
He leaned towards the camera, his gaze becoming urgent. "The Heart is hidden, but its location is not fixed. It moves according to an energy cycle that we have modeled on the lunar phases. It is only accessible during a very specific window: for one hour, at the next full moon."
A new window opened in Do-hyun's mind.
[NEW QUEST: THE DANCE OF THE HEART]
[OBJECTIVE: LOCATE THE SECOND half of the coordinates and ACCESS TO THE HEART OF THE PHENIX DURING THE FULL MOON WEN.]
[Delay: 21 days]
[PENALITY: If the window is missed, the heart will move and become unbreakable for 3 months.]
"The full moon..." murmured Soo-ah. "The opposite of the new moon. Where their power is weakest, yours could be at its most."
On the screen, his father continued. "The exact location requires two coordinate sequences. The first is in the memory stone that your mother prepared. The second..." He hesitated, as if searching for his words. "The second is hidden in the only place we knew absolutely safe, the only place the Clan would ever watch, for it represents everything they despise."
An image was displayed on the screen: an old, slightly blurry color photo of a small, modest street restaurant with a hangul sign: "The Comforting Bowl."
Do-hyun held his breath. This was the restaurant where her mother sometimes took her, on Sunday lunchtime, after the market. No one but him and his parents knew this place. It was their place.
"The address is in the metadata of the file," says his father. "The sequence is hidden there. Find her. Bring the two sides together. And get ready, Do-hyun. Access to the Heart will not be without danger. The Heart itself... it will put you to the test. Not physically. Mentally. Morally. It was designed to respond only to a bearer worthy of its power. Good luck, my son. Know that, no matter what happens, we are proud of you. And we love you."
The screen turned black.
A profound silence reigned in the room. The information was huge. Not only did they have a deadline, but the quest became deeply personal. It took him back to the roots of his humanity, to those simple little joys before the war, before death.
"The Comforting Bowl..." Do-hyun repeated, his voice strangled. "I know. It's in old Seoul. Near where we used to live before... before all that."
"They hid a fragment of the most powerful key of their lives in a noodle restaurant," Min-ho summed up, a rare astonishment in his voice. "It's... bold."
"That's great," Soo-ah corrected, with an admiring smile on his face. "Who would go looking for that there? Vampires despise everyday living spaces, places of no strategic importance. It's perfect."
Do-hyun stood up, a new determination in his eyes. The sadness was still there, alive, but it was now channeled into a clear goal.
"Okay. We have 21 days. The first step is simple." He looked at his two companions. "Who's hungry?"
For the first time in a long time, a real smile, tinged with nostalgia and resolution, lit up his face. The hunt for the Phoenix Heart was through a bowl of noodles. In a way, it was the best tribute his parents could have left him.